Chapter 2784 Spots of Youth (4)

Every school has its own ringtones for class and get out of class, but no matter how nice the ringtones are designed, you will get bored after listening to them for a long time.

It may be for this reason that none of the previous Hogwarts headmasters tried to make the ringing of the clock tower bells pleasant. It's still dull, dull, serious, and unpunctual.

After finishing the day's class, Pomona followed the instructions and came to the principal's office.

"Please come in."

The inside spoke almost immediately after Pomona knocked on the door.

So she opened the door and entered the principal's office, where Dumbledore was raising his pet phoenix.

"You're looking for me, Headmaster," said Pomona.

Albus turned his head, his blue eyes looking at her through half-moon spectacles.

"Sit down, please," said Albus, walking to the armchair behind the imposing desk and sitting down.

Pomona expected this to be a long "conversation", so he also sat down on the opposite chair.

"I heard what you did last night," said Dumbledore. "What do you want to say?"

Pomona found Albus watching her seriously.

Albus Dumbledore, the chocolate frog cartoon character, the great wizard who defeated Grindelwald, the discoverer of uses for dragon's blood, it all shows how wise and right he would be if he met Pomona last night What will happen to the situation?

"I did what I thought was best," Pomona said. "I couldn't allow fear and rumors to spread."

"You have nothing to suspect?" Albus asked.

"I'm not going to testify against anyone without solid evidence," Pomona said.

"What kind of proof do you want?" Albus asked.

Pomona didn't know what to say.

After Phoebe calmed down, she said that she came to visit the portraits on the grand staircase, and then her eyes were blank, and she was in the painting in the next second, and the surrounding portraits did not witness what happened at that time.

The lounge of Slytherin College is also underground, and there are no witnesses. How can it be said that the murderer is in their college?

Albus hands a book to Pomona.

"What's this?" Pomona asked.

"Your birthday present," said Albus. "Open it."

Pomona didn't say her birthday would be some time away, but she ripped the wrapping paper off the book anyway.

It was called The Nightingale and the Rose, and as far as she knew it was written by a Muggle poet.

"I know what you're worried about," said Albus softly, "but you might be doing something dangerous."

"Dangerous?" Pomona asked in disbelief.

"I'll take precautions..."

"Can you explain to me what a 'preventive' measure is?" Pomona interrupted Albus rudely. "What's the use of taking precautions now that things have happened?"

"The burden of this world cannot be carried by one person alone, and the troubles of this world cannot be carried by one person alone." Albus said, "You should not let children go back to their beds with fear, this fear into their dreams."

"So you think I should put them together in the lounge to sleep together?" Pomona sneered. "They won't share the burden, they will just scare each other."

"How do you know if you don't try?" Albus asked.

"Because I'm in contact with them every day, unlike you..."

Pomona swallowed the rest of her sentence, and Albus looked at her tolerantly.

"I know you feel bad, but we've won the first battle and we're going to win the last, and it's not over yet," said Albus softly.

"I know that the mysterious man's whereabouts are only unknown, so Bellatrix will torture the Longbottoms." Pomona said in a deep voice.

"No, I think he's dead," said Dumbledore. "All the curses he's cast have lost their effect."

Except for one.

Pomona thought that the position of professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts seemed to be really cursed, so Albus hired a foreigner to be a professor.

"I believed he would come back in a different way, so that boy, Harry Potter, I sent him where it would have the least impact on his development."

"Like the Boy King," Pomona said.

Albus was a little surprised, but said calmly, "Have you read this book?"

There once was a princess who was the only daughter of the king, but she was unwilling to marry a noble prince, but fell in love with a servant, and the two gave birth to an illegitimate child. It is also said that it was a stranger who made the princess fall in love with him by the sound of the magic flute. In short, the princess' son disappeared seven days after he was born, and he became the son of a shepherd. Before the old king died, he sent someone to find the child and declared him his heir.

Pomona knew Lily's sister, Petunia, was the most likely candidate to become Harry Potter's guardian.

The little prince had a very beautiful face, and he also loved beauty. When he saw the clothes and jewels prepared by the servants, he was very happy and immediately took off his fur coat.

All kinds of rare and valuable things are very attractive to him. In order to obtain these things, the little prince sent merchants to search everywhere, but what bothered him most was the clothes on the day of the coronation.

One day he fell asleep and had a dream in which he thought he was standing in a small house surrounded by thin-faced weavers and pale, sickly children. He walked up to a weaver, who glared at him angrily.

"What are you looking at me for? Are you another spy sent by the master to watch over us?"

"Who is your master?" asked the young king who had not yet been crowned.

"Our master is a man like us, but he wears rich clothes, and we wear rags, and we are dying of hunger, and his house is stinking with too much meat."

"This place is free, and you are not slaves of others, why are you staying here?"

The weaver said, "In war, the strong make the weak slaves, and in peacetime, the rich make the poor slaves. We must work because we want to live. Although invisible to the naked eye, we are all slaves, no matter what others say about us. What freedom."

The young king was terrified, and asked the weaver, "Who are the clothes you weave for?"

The weaver replied, "It was worn for the king's coronation."

This is the boy king yelling and waking up. At this time, he is still in the bedroom, and the moon is dim outside the window, as if hanging in the mist.

"If the burden of the world cannot be given to one man, why would you choose him?" Pomona asked Albus.

"I didn't choose it." Albus sank himself into the chair. "The Dark Lord chose him."

Pomona didn't believe him.

"It's because he can't bear the burden of the world alone that he needs many friends, and that means he needs a good character, do you think I'm right?" asked Albus.

"You think making him suffer in the Muggle world will turn him into a likable person?" Pomona said incredulously, "I think you have misunderstood what children think of 'popularity', no think."

"How do you know he will suffer?" said Albus. "His relatives may treat him well."

Pomona shook his head with a sneer.

"You can understand it as a long-term investment. What kind of return we will receive will take many years. Let's talk about the current problems. I don't support your disposal method that night."

So you're going to fire me?

Pomona said in his heart, but didn't say it out of his mouth.

"Don't be fooled by a man's tenderness, witch," said Albus. "Do you think the Dark Lord really loves Bellatrix?"

Sometimes Pomona really thinks this guy is cruel, and maybe because he's that kind of guy, he keeps winning.

"Nobody's been tender to me," said Pomona dryly. "I'm short and fat. Who would do that to a woman like that?"

Albus didn't say anything more cruel after all, the pain was enough to wake her up.

"Have you mastered the ability to predict the future like Grindelwald?" Pomona asked.

In the story of the Boy King, at first he broke off a wild thorn on the balcony of the palace, bent it into a circle, and put it on his head. The prince was annoyed to make a new crown.

A soothsayer handed the little prince a red jewel, and in the other hand was holding a silver mirror.

He handed both things to the little prince. The little prince took a look in the mirror and saw his own face. He cried out in surprise and woke up from his dream.

Of course, he can see his own face in a normal mirror, otherwise what else would he expect to see in the mirror?

"No," said Albus, "but I can sense what 'fate' is."

She felt sick all over.

"You can go, Professor." Albus stood up, leaning on his chair. "Give my regards to Professor Slughorn."

Pomona watched his back, thinking that Slughorn probably didn't want to hear any "greetings" from Dumbledore.

After all, Albus had encouraged and allowed a young man to challenge Head Slughorn as a young wandering lion had done to an old lion. But the problem is that they are snakes, and snake kings are sacrosanct.

Pomona picked up the book on the table, even though it was on the shelf, she already had it.

Before closing the office door, Pomona looked back at Albus's bookshelf. There was a ball in a three-dimensional triangle, connected by a wooden stick, which looked like a children's puzzle.

So she decisively nicknamed him "Old Fool", and then closed the door.